"I'll pass, too." Nick dropped into the chair beside her. He angled his chin toward the three Heralds. "How's Project Log Book going?"

"Right on schedule, and I intend to keep it that way." Arizona permitted herself a small moment of intense satisfaction. "Those bastards up at the institute aren't going to stop us. But we've got a problem."

"What's up?" Nick asked easily.

"The institute crowd has started a rumor. Heard it at Fulton's this morning," Arizona stated, clearly agitated.

Octavia sighed. "That would be the rumor that I'm the one who stole the painting and faked a break-in at my gallery to cover my tracks?"

"Bingo." Arizona snorted. "So, you've heard it, too, eh?"

"Yes," Nick said. "Seemed to be coming from Eugene and Dwayne. I took steps to keep them quiet, but I had a hunch that they weren't the original source."

"I reckon that the institute tried to use them to spread it for obvious reasons," Arizona said. "Not like those two blockheads would question the source of a story. They'd just happily blab to anyone who would listen. Whoever used them knew that was their nature."

Nick thought for a minute. "You said you heard the rumor at Fulton's?"

"Checkout counter," Arizona said. "Overheard Betty Stiles talking about it to Marjorie Dunne."

An unpleasant whisper of unease went through Octavia. Marjorie Dunne was the mother of little Katy Dunne, one of the children who had entered a picture in the Children's Art Show. Gordon Dunne served on the town council and had made it clear that he intended to run for mayor in the next election cycle. The family took its role as pillars of the community seriously.

"Betty and Marjorie, huh?" Nick leaned back in his chair and thrust his legs out toward the desk. He steepled his fingers. "What we need to do is trace this rumor back to the source."

"We know where it got started," Arizona snapped. "That crowd up at the institute concocted it. I'll bet they've got that painting stashed somewhere up there, too. Now, I've come up with a plan-"

"No." Nick unsteepled his fingers and held up one hand, palm out, to silence her. "Don't even think about it. You are not going to send Octavia and me into the institute to search for that painting."

"Got to go in," Arizona declared. "Don't see any other way to find the picture."

"Give me a few more days," Nick said. "I'm working on some angles."

Arizona looked skeptical. "What angles?"

"It's a little complicated and I'm not ready to talk about it yet. Let's just say that I think this thing has roots in the past. I've asked my grandfather to help. He and Mitch Madison are doing some deep background research. When I get the results I'll contact you."

"Deep background, huh?" Arizona chewed on her cigar while she pondered that. "When do you expect a report from 'em?"

"Soon," Nick promised. He got to his feet. "Any day now. Hold off on your plans to go into the institute until I get back to you, okay? If you move now, you may alert the folks who are behind this and they'll probably move that painting. Maybe ship it to California. We'll never find it if they take it out of town."

Arizona munched on her cigar a couple of times and then nodded decisively. "All right. I'll give you a few days to finish your deep background. But if you don't get anything useful out of Sullivan and Mitch, we're gonna have to go in. It's our only option."

"Right. I'll be in touch." Nick took Octavia's arm and hauled her up out of the chair. "Come on, we've got work to do, honey."

The honey bemused her a little. She got the feeling that he wasn't even conscious of having used the endearment. She thought about that while she allowed herself to be dragged from the War Room.

Outside, a light summer rain was falling. The woods surrounding the fortified cabin were cloaked in a gray mist. Nick hustled her into his car, and then went around the front and got in beside her.

She looked at him as he quickly reversed and drove back along the thin, rutted path that served as Arizona's driveway.

"Deep background?" she said dryly.

"I thought it sounded good. Had a nice military ring."

"It did seem to impress Arizona, but you only bought us a little time. What do you expect to accomplish?"

"Beats me. But I didn't have much choice. I had to come up with something fast. I definitely do not want to get tangled up in one of Arizona's little clandestine recon projects at the institute."

"From what Mitch told me, it's sort of a family tradition. Hannah and Rafe carried out a mission for Arizona and so did Lillian and Gabe."

"And it was just damn good luck that none of them got picked up for illegal trespass." Nick turned the wheel and drove out onto the main road. "I've got no intention of following in their illustrious and heroic footsteps, thank you very much. Especially when there's no reason in hell to think that the painting has been hidden up there at the institute."

Her small flash of amusement faded. "But you do believe that it's still somewhere in town, don't you?"

"Yes." He did not take his attention off the road. "I think whoever took it did it for personal reasons, not for profit. That means it's probably still somewhere in town. We need to find the source of those rumors."

A few minutes later Nick drove into town, turned onto Bay Street, and parked in the lot at the end of the row of shops. He got out and walked with Octavia to the door of the gallery.

The flicker of unease she had experienced a short time ago when Arizona had recounted the scene at Fulton's returned. Inside the gallery, Gail stood at the counter. She was engaged in an intense conversation with Marjorie Dunne.

"That's a ridiculous rumor, Mrs. Dunne," Gail said forcefully. "I can't imagine who started it, but it has absolutely no basis in fact."

Marjorie was clearly not about to be reassured or placated. Clad in tailored slacks and a fashionable cream silk blouse and wearing a lot of gold jewelry, she was, as usual, overdressed for Eclipse Bay. Her blond hair was cut in a short, sophisticated bob that Octavia was pretty sure had not come from Carla's Custom Cut amp; Curl. The local beauty shop specialized in two distinctive looks: Very Big Hair and the Senior Citizen Helmet.

"I'm sorry," Marjorie said, not looking particularly remorseful, just very determined, "but regardless of whether or not the rumors are true, I must insist that you give me my daughter's picture. I can't allow Katy to participate in the art show so long as there's a cloud hanging over Octavia Brightwell and this gallery. I have to think of my husband's position in the community."

Octavia felt Nick go very still beside her. Alarmed by the anger she sensed humming through him, she stepped forward quickly to defuse the situation.

"I assume this is about the gossip that is going around concerning me," she said calmly.

Gail and Marjorie both turned quickly. Gail's expression was every bit as resolute as Marjorie's.

Marjorie looked momentarily taken aback at the sight of Nick standing next to Octavia. She started to speak to him, but Gail overrode her.

"Katy will be crushed if her picture isn't in the show," Gail said to Octavia. She gave Marjorie a brief, pointed look. "I'm sure Mrs. Dunne wouldn't want her daughter to feel left out because of some stupid gossip. You know how sensitive children are."

Marjorie flushed a dull red, but she was resolved. "I'm sorry about this, Octavia. Katy may not understand why I'm doing this, but it's for her own good. I'm sure you can see my position here. Dunnes have been respected members of this community for three generations."

"You must do what you feel is best for your daughter," Octavia agreed. "It's unfortunate that you believe the rumor that I stole the Upsall, but that is your choice. I'll get the picture for you."